


Better

by wowiwrotesomething



Category: Atypical (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 16:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowiwrotesomething/pseuds/wowiwrotesomething
Summary: You may not have things figured out right now, but you know one thing with certainty.Nothing feels better than this.Inspired by Khalid - Better





	Better

The vehicle is engulfed in silence. Cars can be heard in the distance, but the only sound your ears are picking up right now is the rhythm of your own inhales and exhales. It’s a good thing you can hear them, otherwise you wouldn’t be sure if you’re breathing at all. There seems to be oxygen entering your lungs, but they still burn, a wildfire spreading inside of your chest, the apex of the flames licking at your heart. Said organ is beating rather quickly, so they must be functioning well enough to keep it going. You can’t recall it ever pounding at such a pace, not even when you broke that record, the one that got you into this mess in the first place. Maybe your pulse is through the roof because you’re actually suffocating, or it might be because of something else, _someone_ else. If your heartbeat wasn’t thumping in your ears, you’d surely be able to hear her breathing too.

You’ve lost sense of how much time has passed. It could have been hours, months, even years, but the rational side of your brain hints it probably hasn’t been more than a few minutes. Still, the duration of this moment is completely irrelevant, because this here feels so important, so irreplaceable, so…. _right_.

If you had to choose between lying in that lame pillow fort and staying in this car forever, you would have no doubts about picking the latter. The sleepover had been quite enjoyable, ignoring the tears Izzie shed upon her arrival and the stunt her douche of a boyfriend pulled that kept you awake for the most of the night, her being in your bed right next to you both triggering an anxiety attack and simultaneously soothing you. It has a specific place in your heart, because you were with _her_ , with the Izzie only you know, not the one the rich kids at school get to see. She wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and let her guard down in front of you, the façade of the captain of the track team that has it all together crumbling. She came to _you_ when she was upset and you deeply appreciate that. Another part of her also made an appearance – a more carefree one, a little bit dorky, childish even. This is a rare sight, considering the fact that she has to take care of her siblings and stay on top of her studies and trainings, so you can’t help but feel a bit flattered that she allowed you to experience that side of her. And then she showed you a sliver of her soul with her confession.   
  
“ _This might sound lame, but..  you’re like **my new favorite person**_.”

At that time it felt like a confirmation of the significance of your friendship. It developed quickly, quicker than any other of your friendships. That took you by surprise – you could never have expected it to turn out like this, remembering how she treated you at the beginning, but the both of you just clicked so well, you wouldn’t dare question it. Maybe it was fate or maybe you were _soulmates_ , even though it seems stupid to believe in either of those things after the disaster ~~your mother~~ Elsa has turned your family into.

You felt the same way she did, the instant connection between you two was undeniable. So you said it back. The admission rolled off your tongue so naturally, you knew you truly meant it. And now you realize it had a deeper meaning. Now you understand why you were so upset when she gave you the cold shoulder after Nate kissed you. The thought of losing your “new best friend” scared the shit out of you, so much that you talked Evan’s ear off about her, more concerned about her reaction to the kiss than about your boyfriend’s. Turns out you were terrified of losing so much more.

_Fuck._

You _know_ this isn’t right. Your goal in life is to not be like your birth giver, yet you’re following in her footsteps. Evan has already called once and will be surely calling again soon, being the great boyfriend he is, always wanting to hang out with you and to make sure you’re okay. He truly is a good boyfriend, an even better friend and an amazing person. He’s nice, he’s caring, he’s supportive and you love him for it. You _love_ him and you _know_ it. Even _she_ knows it.

That’s why you need to stop this, whatever this is, immediately. It’s not fair to him. He doesn’t deserve to be played like your father was. Yes, maybe it’s different, because nothing has happened… yet ( _thanks, mom_ ). Scratch that, you should actually thank your mother for unintentionally interrupting the two of you. You’re already feeling the guilt squeezing your heart while you’re holding hands, imagine what it would be like if she never entered your room. Which of the two would be more regrettable– hurting the sweetest boy you’ve ever known (apart from Sam, of course) or not getting to taste the most kissable lips you’ve ever seen?

A quiet sigh escapes said lips. The breathy sound cuts through the curtain of silence. Both of you haven’t said anything for a while now, too immersed in your own thoughts. There’s a tornado in your head, throwing everything around, thoughts crashing into each other, making a mess that you’re not sure you can fix by yourself. Worst of all, the two people who could help you deal with it are in the eye of the storm – one has no idea of it all, the other probably has a hurricane of her own. You’d try to decipher what’s on her mind, but it’s too much of a risk to look into her eyes. It’s scary how much they draw you in, more powerful than any black hole in the universe.

You’re getting lost in her existence, despite the lack of eye contact and words exchanged. Only the intertwined hands resting on the console connect the two of you, warmth radiating off her palm. Even that’s too much. This is probably how Sam feels when he’s overstimulated. And while there is the same need to shut down your senses and run as far away as you can, you want to stay in her proximity as long as possible.

It’s incredibly hard to let her hand go, as if there’s some kind of magnetic force between you, pulling you in when you’re in her presence. Somehow you find the strength to free yourself from her grasp, instantly turning the keys in the ignition switch and starting the car, just so you do something with your now empty hand. The vehicle exits the empty parking lot slowly, leaving the serene moment you shared behind and once again entering the real world where relationships and feelings are way too complicated. Out of the corner of your eye you watch her run her fingers through her hair, almost like she too needs an excuse to move her hand away. She then grips her cup, containing the Cotton Candy Slurpee you drove four towns away for. You don’t think you’d ever agree to such a needless road trip to a 7-Eleven for a drink if it’s not for her.

The silence starts to feel awkward. Something needs to be said, but what is there to say? Is there any way to acknowledge what’s happening without coming to the conclusion that you’re not being loyal to the nicest person in your life? It’s a paradox really – your brain needs some kind of definition for this, your heart can’t face it. You’re once again reminded of the mess your mother created, the amount of damage she caused by being unfaithful, not only to your father, but to Sam and to you too. She managed to hurt multiple people with her mistake, you don’t want to make the same mistake and harm two of the most important figures in your life.

Still, you’re driving way below the speed limit, doing everything in your power to prolong this moment. Even if Izzie notices how slowly you’re moving, she doesn’t say anything and simply continues looking in the opposite direction, not sparing you a glance. Out of desperation to chase away the thoughts causing you both headache and heartache, your hand shoots out to turn on the radio, riffling through the stations, until you’re satisfied with the melody flowing through the air. The song is unfamiliar to you, but you enjoy the smooth voice of the singer, the timbre deep and rich. The girl in the passenger seat doesn’t react in any way, silently gazing out of the window.  Attempting not to focus on her and how beautiful she is with her pouty lips and bright eyes, reflecting the light of the street lamps, you listen attentively to the lyrics of the song.

_I love to see you shine in the night like the diamond you are  
  
_ The universe either hates you or wants to tell you something, there’s no other explanation for this. You almost scoff at your luck - only you would find yourself in a situation like this, where even the songs on the radio seem to rub your unwanted feelings in your face, the ones you’re trying so hard not to think about. There is a pretty easy solution to this – just change the song, there are so many other stations you could listen to. Or you could turn the radio off, that would work too, the previous awkward silence preferable to this reminder of your inner turmoil. However, you can’t bring yourself to move, your hands glued to the steering wheel. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you relate to the lyrics, the heavy emotions inside of you finding an outlet through the words of the singer. It’s so incredibly lame, but you really think she shines brighter than any star in the galaxy, her smile never failing to lighten up your day, even the days where you can’t stop thinking about the affair the She-Beast you’re supposed to call “mom” had. But comparing her to diamonds doesn’t do her justice – the girl next to you is so much more valuable than some expensive mineral people like to wear, just to show off how wealthy they are. When you’re with her, you have it all, you’re the richest person in the world.  
  
_I’m good on the side, it's alright, just hold me in the dark_

No, she’s not good on the side. Izzie is otherworldly. You’ve never met someone like her - so strong yet soft, determined but kind, so responsible but still carefree as a child when given the chance, so amazingly beautiful both on the inside and outside. She should be cherished like the dream girl she is, not kept a secret. You wish you could be the one to treasure her forever. Maybe you can.

_No one's got to know, what we do, hit me up when you're bored_

This is where things get complicated – you may be able to allow yourself to explore whatever you’re feeling about her, but you know it’s not the right thing to do it behind Evan’s back. Something inside of you knows that these feelings won’t go away easily, as much as you want to, you can’t ignore them. If you ever find the courage to dive into the unknown parts of yourself, you’ll have to let your boyfriend know, he deserves at least that much. He’s never been anything but honest with you, at times saying what you didn’t want but needed to hear. It’s only fair if you treat him the same way.

_We don't gotta hide, this is what you like, I'll admit_

Keeping your feelings to yourself would be stupid, for she already has an idea. You’ve always been on the same wavelength, so in touch with each other, knowing exactly what the other needs. This telepathy was the force behind the pillow fort and the dramatic reading of “It”, creating a night full of memories and confessions you’ll remember forever. But if you don’t hide them from her and yourself, what do you do?

You may not have things figured out right now, but you know one thing with certainty.

**_Nothing feels better than this_ **

**Author's Note:**

> so.. uhm.. hey, hi! I’ve never written anything like this, much less fanfiction, but here we are. I guess the gayness in me couldn’t take it anymore and made me write about two girls falling in love.   
> To be honest, I started this before I watched the two seasons of the show, but it didn’t feel quite right, so I left it unfinished and spent 2 days in front of the screen of my laptop laughing and crying with the characters. Topics such as mental health and the stigma around it are very important to me, so seeing positive and mostly accurate representation warmed my heart. The possible lesbian romance is the cherry on top.   
> The thing is, I am leaving my home country in less than 8 hours in order to start university. To say I’m nervous is an understatement (I’m wide awake at 4am, so that’s that), but I figured that med school would take up all of my time, so I felt the need to finish this while I still can. It’s pretty rushed at the end, but if I don’t post this now, I never will.   
> For anyone wondering, the song is “Better” by Khalid. It felt like a cool song to listen to in a car with somewhat fitting lyrics. Then Lauv and Julia Michaels dropped “There’s No Way” and this fic idea became useless.  
> I hope you enjoy my contribution to the fandom, regardless of the unimpressive language, style and overall plot. It’s pretty obvious I’m neither a native English speaker nor a writer of any sort, but there aren’t many works about Cazzie, so this should be good enough.  
> Any kind of reviews, corrections and opinions will be deeply appreciated. You wouldn’t find me on Twitter or Tumblr, although I’m considering making an account, just so I can express all of my feelings about Fivel Stewart, because they are a whole fucking lot. Seriously, this woman ruined my life and I’m truly concerned about my obsessive thoughts regarding her.   
> Thanks for reading and coming to my TED talk!


End file.
